#Eric Hand Prints

[arthistoryanimalia]

#TextileTuesday :

Textile, California Quail

Designed by Tony Sharrar, Manufactured by Eric Hand Prints, USA, 1952

Cotton, screen printed on plain weave; H 102.5 x W 122 cm (40 3/8 x 48 1/16 in.)

Cooper Hewitt 1953-89-1

[erebus0dora]

some of you asked if you could print/chew/otherwise consume my Devil's Minion art, and i did ask if you needed a masterpost on the topic, so-

may i offer you this Google Drive folder, o gentle creatures..?

i'll add more, and i believe it's sensible to add the links to the original posts with these images, but frankly speaking i am chill with whatever way you use or share them if that's for your personal use

just keep them free, that's my only request

what was born as a free art should remain free art

any questions left? ask them, i don't bite unless you would really like that

now, have a peaceful day and my digital hug

💜UPDATE💜

it feels appropriate to make it a fully shaped masterpost, links and all, so... links to each and every artwork on the theme - below the cut

the Tarot cards (Hermit/Death)

"...rest" (but mirrored)

first take on Armand that looks like anime

some thoughts on the age of the magnolia tree

human!Daniel deliberately thinking of beautiful things

The Magnolia Tee Print

animated Daniel (literally, as in, a gif)

a very vampire!Daniel, thoroughly researched

Byzantine Icon Armand

a tender moment which is vague but there you go

sleeping Armand from a fic

hugs (the quiet)

more hugs (abrupt)

more hugs (headphones on, updated)

Daniel gently cleaning Armand's face

some extra somfte quiet gremlin

crack!chibi!Daniel on tees

crack!chibi!Daniel on teefs

sneaky sleepy uncertain hug for another fic

moar tender touch for another fic

beige pillow

the return of the beige pillow

"i see you"

kissing the maker's hand

more tender face-touching, couldn't choose one

Daniel comes to Louvre

Daniel collects art

four pages of Armand running and Daniel chasing

Hug The Gremlin

Hug The Gremlin For He Is Art

Armand as a candle, literally

Armand and magnolia petals (the art)

Armand and magnolia petals (the sculpture)

(slightly off-topic, but) Perforated Heart because ffs Eric knows his shit

good old don't you maître me thing which i keep forgetting to include

tbc🫀

Only Fangs Molloy - keep in mind there's a JPEG and a TIFF version in the Drive folder, the TIFF works better if u wanna print it

(+bonus TALK SHIT GET BIT file is also there)

A LOT of traditional stuffs, scanned in 350 dpi for your entertainment

[alt-vera]

— broke record ⁀➷

joel miller has been gone on a supply run for the past few days. turns out there’s a few things he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind while he’s been gone.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.4k | ❛ broke record - eric church ❜

warnings: smut. dirty thoughts. mentions of masturbation. lowkey (highkey) needy joel. manhandling. fingering. thigh riding. edging. oral (f!recieving). unprotected piv. dom!joel. unestablished age gap. unestablished relationship. mdni.

❝ i ain’t never had nothing stuck in my head like this melody i keep’a hearing ❞

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IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE TIME THING.

　Joel Miller was committed to keeping this one night stand with you exactly what it was supposed to be: a one night stand.

　But, good lord, he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t get the way you whispered his name out of his mind, as if he parted the sea for you. As if he was a bottle of liquor you had found in the back of the cabinet just when you thought you were run dry. As if he was everything you needed, and more.

　Tommy was sick of it. Couldn’t stand Joel’s late-night whispers of “She’s fine with Ellie back in Jackson, right?” Sometimes he pretended not to hear him over the loud cracks of the blistering fire, sometimes he just sighed and threw his brother some vague reassurance. He couldn’t be happier as they approached the tall gates of Jackson, returning from their 4 day supply run. He’d be free of his broke-record brother who could finally see that you were fine while they were gone.

　But you weren’t fine. Physically, yes. But emotionally, you were just as bothersome to Ellie as Joel was to Tommy; constantly bugging her with questions of if Joel was alright or not. Ellie was two seconds away from locking you in the house the three of you shared and hiding behind Maria when you inevitably found a way out.

　The house was the first place Joel headed after he dropped his horse off at the stables. His boots left hurried prints in the crisp snow, smearing in determination as he crept closer to his destination. The door burst open, a loud bang alerting you to his arrival. The home smelt like you: lilac and a hint of whiskey. He breathed it in, relishing it. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed this. He missed you.

　And there you were. Waiting for him with a smile on your face. You were toughened by the outbreak, but still radiated warmth and sanctity.

　“Hi,” You spoke softly, taking a slow step towards him. “Ellie’s just at the movies with some of the other girls. Said she’d be back in time to give you hell for not letting her come with you and Tommy.”

　In the blink of an eye Joel was in front of you, wordlessly staring at you with unwavering eyes. Your smile faltered, brow furrowing with uncertainty. “Is everything alright?”

　“I need you.”

　You were slightly taken aback by his words, not expecting that to be the first thing to fly out of his mouth. Speaking of his mouth—It was on you in an instant, feverish kisses being pressed to your jaw, trailing up to your lips. His tongue licked the inside of your mouth, as if he couldn’t control himself.

　As much as you enjoyed the intimacy, you needed to press pause. You gently pressed your hands against his hard chest, putting a good inch or so between the two of you. It was hard to stay sane with the way he was towering over you, hungry for your touch.

　“Joel, what’s going on?” You had the same uncertain smile as before, eyes clouded with worry, a swirl of awakening lust breaking through ever so slightly.

　His hand grabbed your wrist, his grip sweltering. His gaze was darkened by need. He backed you up against the nearest wall, pinning you between the solid surface and his body.

　“You had no idea how hard it was, bein’ away from you with your needy moans playin’ on repeat through my head.”

　His jean covered thigh pressed between your legs, deliciously putting pressure against your cunt. You fought the urge to press into him.

　Joel’s voice was low. “I don’t like bein’ a desperate man, darlin’.”

　“I…I’m sorry, Joel,” Your voice wavered as you spoke, unsure of how to reply to his confession.

　“Yeah, you will be.”

　With that, he went right back to attacking your mouth. It was a mess of teeth and tongues that resulted in swollen lips, your face being rubbed raw by his stubble.

　You rubbed yourself against his thigh, craving any sort of friction to aid your growing arousal. He tutted, but raised his leg higher, allowing you to guide yourself through an already impending orgasm.

　“Joel—Fuck…” You groaned out, pace quickening as you peaked.

　He led you up the stairs and into his bedroom moments afterward, the door being locked behind you. You settled yourself onto his unmade bed, waiting patiently as he crawled over you, somewhat straddling you.

　“Bet you’ve been waiting all week for my fingers,” He said, ghosting the waistband of your panties before diving down into them, digits collecting your cum and wetness, giving him leverage to circle your clit. You nodded, an obscene sound leaving your mouth.

　“Words, baby.” He grunted, pupils trained on your face as your hips grinded against his hand. One finger slipped in, then two, and you found it hard to make any coherent thoughts as overstimulation crept over you. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

　“It was all I could think about,” Your words were broken by moans, plush lips being bitten in an attempt to silence yourself. “I-I touched myself while you were gone, but couldn’t make myself cum. I needed you to do it.”

　You could feel how hard Joel was through his jeans as he pressed into your leg. His fingers left your cunt, and you whined in protest.

　“Patience,” He growled, head lowering towards your cunt. You could feel his hot breath against the inside of your thigh, then the next thing you knew he was licking a stripe up you.

　Your fingers buried themselves in his hair as you ate you out, uncontrollable moans leaving your lips. He groaned into you, the vibrating egging you on. Just as you were about to cum again, he pulled away. A devilish grin danced on his lips as he watched your mouth fall agape.

　“Told ya that you’d be sorry.”

　A part of you wanted to smack the shit-eating grin off of his face, but a bigger part of you was focused on chasing your orgasm, so you sat back and watched him like a hawk as he unbuttoned his jeans, stripping them off along with his boxers.

　He stroked his length, precum dribbling out of his slit. You fought the urge to take him into your mouth. Instead, you relaxed, feeling the tip of his cock slip lazily between your folds until he finally entered you.

　You gasped, not being used to his size. Even with all the prep, it hurt. But that pain quickly turned into pleasure. He turned you over, stripping you of your remaining clothes. Your back pressed against his bare chest as he pawed at your chest, hand squeezing your tit as he fucked into you. It physically shook you, how hard he was fucking you.

　“Do ya know how hard it was while i was gone?” He asked rhetorically, his voice barely registering over the lewd sounds you were making. You for sure thought your cervix would be bruised. “Couldn’t even fuck my hand, darlin’, and all i could think about was you.”

　“Joel,” You whimpered. His one hand dug into your hip, other hand pinching your pebbled nipple. “Don’t stop.”

　You clenched around him as you began to climax, a groan leaving his mouth. Your skin felt sticky with sheen sweat as you came, Joel fucking you through your high and into overstimulation until you felt his hot seed coat your walls.

　You collapsed into him, overheated body laying overtop of his as you both caught your breath. His strong arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer into him. You could feel the muscles in his arm flex as he did so.

　“Well?” He asked after a moment. You looked up at him, his swollen lips curling up into what counted as a grin from the hardened Joel Miller. “Are ya sorry?”

　You smiled into his arm, tongue rolling over your teeth as you prepared to tease.

　“Not in the slightest.”

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　“So, what. Are you guys, like, fuck buddies now?”

　Ellie’s voice was muffled by the dinner shoved into her mouth.

　Your fork hit your plate with a harsh clang, face welling up with embarrassment.

　Joel’s fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “For fuck’s sake, Ellie…”

[hairyjocktf]

The Bear Brew

Jake was the star player of his university’s hockey team, and with two successful championships under his belt he was captain for this next season. He’d practically been raised for this position. His parents had put him in hockey lessons as soon as he could stand up, and every moment through his childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to practice. He was the star player at his high school and given a scholarship to play on the university team. He’d been told not to let all that go to his head but he knew he was the best player on the team. Every match there would be throngs of fans in the stands chanting his name after every goal, wearing shirts with his face on them, and begging for pics with him after. His life couldn’t get any better.

His teammates, however, were over it. They’d made him captain just to shut him up after he’d been talking their ears off for the past three years. It helped that issue but only inflated his ego even more. Jake had somehow gotten even more obnoxious this season, becoming combative during practice and not taking any criticism about his play. The guys were sick of it, and while Jake was off stroking his ego by chatting with his fans, they hatched up a plan to get back at him. They’d found this beer called ‘Bear Brew’ that promised to put some pounds on anyone that drank a can. They knew Jake would never turn down grabbing a drink to celebrate a victory, thinking himself the one responsible. They weren’t sure exactly how effective it’d be or how long it’d take but they just hoped it would take Jake down a peg.

Two days later, after another decisive victory, it was time. Another player named Eric interrupted Jake’s victory lap.

“Hey bro, wanna grab a beer with us and celebrate?” He asked.

“Finally ready to celebrate my accomplishments, huh?” Jake retorted, “Sure dude, I’m down for a couple rounds, you’re buying though.”

“Deal,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He knew it would be worth it to see this through. They both returned to the rest of the team.

“I heard you chumps are buying me a beer tonight,” Jake laughed as the others wore forced grins. “Let’s hit the bar bros, I’m thirsty.”

On their way to the nearest sports bar, one of the players slipped Eric the Bear Brew so he could give it to Jake. He hoped Jake wouldn’y pay too much attention to the label or read the fine print, but Jake already wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so it’d probably be fine. They entered a local sports bar that had a decent crowd.

“Alright Eric, first rounds on you bro!” Jake announced as he slumped back into a booth along the wall. Eric glared as he made his way to the counter, the rest of the players trying to seem normal and hide their excitement. He brought back a whole armful of cans, passing out beers to the team, making sure to hand Jake the Bear Brew. “Alright boys!” Jake announced to the group, “To victory and my next championship title, you better back me up!” He took a huge sip of the beer. “Damn this shit tastes kinda weird, the fuck did you get me Eric?” He laughed before taking another sip.

Eric chuckled nervously, “Just thought I’d get you somethin’ premium bro.”

“Damn straight you did, I like that kinda talk,” Jake responded, luckily not putting any more thought into the matter. He kept on sipping at the beer, making obnoxious jokes and trying to hit on the waitresses walking around. He felt more buzzed than usual from one beer, and noticed an odd feeling in his stomach. He ignored that for the moment, yelling at the team, “Another round bros! Gotta treat me right tonight.”

Luckily, the team had planned for this and brought extra beers for Jake in case he asked for more. Another player went up and ordered beers for the team, brought them back and handed Jake the Bear Brew again. Jake started chugging the second beer, and he was really starting to feel odd. He was almost feeling drunk from just two beers, and his stomach was queasy in a way he’d never felt before. He took a couple minutes to just lay back against the seat and close his eyes to give it time to settle. But settle it did not, and the feeling eventually became uncomfortable to the point he couldn’t ignore it. He put his hands on his stomach to try and comfort it, but immediately he felt something very, very wrong.

Jake opened his eyes and looked down at his stomach. He nearly gagged at what he saw. Instead of his chiseled abs he now had a pudgy stomach, and it only seemed to be getting bigger. His defined muscles were disappearing behind a thick layer of chub. He was speechless, watching his defined pecs inflating with fat. It looked like he’d been binging beers for years! His perfect workout routine was vanishing before his eyes as his entire body gained 5, 10, 20 pounds. A round belly now stretched his shirt to its limit, with sagging tits to match. It looked as if he’d been dirty bulking for years on end, and Jake was mortified. He glanced around at his teammates hoping no one had noticed his inflating body, feeling his face as a double chin began to form under his formerly tight jawline. He was panicking, trying to keep cool and maintain his cocky bravado while hiding his growing gut.

He could feel every part of his body growing plump and soft, threatening to burst out of his tight clothing. His feet were pushing against his shoes, and even his hands were growing larger. Jake felt sick to his stomach, and without attracting attention he got up and made his way to the dingy restroom in the back of the bar. Out of breath, he put his hands on the counter and stared at his bloated reflection in the mirror. He could barely recognize himself, having put on years worth of weight in the last few minutes. As he watched himself, he noticed some dark spots appearing on his face. Upon leaning towards the mirror, he realized with horror that thick, brown hairs were starting to poke out of his face. They popped up around the sagging edge of his jaw, and began spreading across his puffy cheeks. His upper lip was quickly buried beneath a thick, unkempt mustache as the hairs took over. They crawled down his fat-laden neck as well, reaching down towards his collarbone. His mouth dropped open as his face was in an instant coated in thick wiry hairs. There was no way he could go back out to his team now, what would they say? He barely looked like his old self anymore. 

Jake reached up to feel his newly grown beard, the coarse hairs scratching against his fingers. He tried to come up with a plan, but the several beers had dulled his mind down. Those thoughts were cut short as a sudden itch arose on his chest. Jake started to scratch at it, clawing at his chest before he felt something that filled him with horror. He felt stubble. He tore off his shirt and looked down to see more hairs pushing out of his soft chest, starting between his former pecs and blossoming outward. They grew dense and thick, giving his chest a respectable coating as it stretched out, encircling his nipples. The hairs climbed up his collarbone, connecting with the beard hairs that had claimed his neck already. A line of hairs shot down from his chest to his navel, spreading a new field of hairs on his stomach. His torso itched up a storm as a thick pelt was growing in, but Jake felt a mixture of horror and pleasure as the sensation felt unnaturally good. He groaned watching the hairs grow longer on his chest, curling and tangling with the others.

As he reached up to feel the growing hairs, Jake saw a flash of dark under his arm, somewhere he had kept shaved before. He lifted his arm up and saw thick brown hairs worming their way out from the previously smooth skin. At first it was just a few but as he watched the tuft grew thicker and bushier as the hairs multiplied. The hairs even spread out to connect with the rug on his chest, completely visible even with his arms at his sides. A few seconds later the smell hit him. Those hairy pits reeked! It was eye watering, and he could see the sweat dripping down the wiry hairs as they kept growing longer. The hairs began crawling outside of his pits, wrapping around his shoulders to blanket them in the same thick fur. He looked like he was wearing a hairy shirt, barely able to see the skin under the growing hairs. His new fur continued to spread, as Jake felt the itching engulf his back. He turned in the mirror to glimpse the hairs popping up across his shoulder blades, making their way towards the middle where they met and grew into a thick fur. That fur sprouted down his spine, completing his coat. Above his ass it had grown in particularly thick, suggesting more to come soon. His arms were next, hairs sprouting down his thick biceps, and burying his forearms in a rug of dark hairs. The backs of his large hands were also coated, thick hairs popping up even on his knuckles. 

Despite feeling horrified at what he was becoming, Jake was overwhelmed by immense pleasure from the changes. Every hair that sprouted produced a euphoria like nothing he’d experienced before. He could feel the follicles pushing through the skin as they covered him in luscious brown fur. Something was distracting him from that sensation though, and it was in his crotch. A burning and stretching feeling was occurring down there, and though his heart sank, Jake pulled down his waistband to peek. His previously trimmed bush was pushing out, dark hairs erupting from his groin as they spread like wildfire. The hairs sprouted and grew thicker and curlier as they multiplied, traveling from the base of his cock all the way up and merging into his thick stomach hair. The bush spread outwards onto his thighs, and he felt his balls expanding as they began to hang lower. They too were buried beneath the fur that was taking over his groin, with thick wiry hairs growing all over his enlarging balls. Jake moaned in ecstasy as his pubes kept sprouting, growing longer and bushier. It felt wrong and disgusting but his body was overtaken by hormones and endorphins, the sensation of pleasure was undeniable.

The hairs continued taking over his smooth skin, traveling from his bush down his large thighs, popping up and growing dark and curly. They coated his legs, growing dense enough to darken the shade of his skin as hair sprouted all over his thighs and calves, before reaching his feet. Jake pulled off his shoes that were ripping at the seams, exposing his now size 15 feet. He watched as hairs wormed their way out across the tops of his feet, even sprouting on his toes. His entire body was now coated in thick brown hair, and Jake rubbed his hands through the newly grown fur as he moaned from the sensation.

His moment of pleasure was cut short by someone banging on the bathroom door.

“Hey Jake, you all good in there bro?” It was Eric, eager to see if their plan had worked.

“Uhh,” Jake hesitated, brought back to reality in a flash. “Yea dude, just a little sick to my stomach it’s no big deal, I’ll be out in a sec,” he replied with a shakiness in his voice. He looked at himself in the mirror. What would the rest of the team think? He looked about ten years older and fifty pounds heavier, not to mention the hairy mess he was now. He was unrecognizable as his past self, not to mention that his clothes didn’t even fit anymore. He struggled to put his shirt back on, leaving his hairy belly exposed, before cramming his huge feet back into his shoes. He took a deep breath, and then unlocked the door and walked back out into the bar.

His teammates had gathered around the door, waiting to see what had become of Jake. They gasped in unison as he opened the door, quickly changing to a howling laughter. 

“BROOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“No way it actually worked! I can’t believe this”

“JAKE YOU’RE SO FAT AND HAIRY”

“GET OWNED DUDE”

“That Bear Brew really did a number on you man!”

Jake was taken aback, his transformation had been potted by his teammates! He was stunned into silence, standing there with his half-fitting shirt on as he was laughed at voraciously. Slowly the laughter cooled, and Eric came up and slapped him on the back.

“See you at practice tomorrow dude,” he said with a chuckle.

The rest of the team left Jake and headed out of the bar. He stood there grappling with the reality of his life now, how was he going to go back to everything like this? In the face of overwhelming stress, he decided to put it out of his mind for just a little while. He walked back to his table, picked up another can of beer, and sat down. His life was a problem for tomorrow.

[aphrodilac]

friends with benefit, ft. eric sohn.

nsfw. mdni. inspired by /his/ picture which i believe all of you will figure it out. tags: afab reader. unprotected sex.

the second eric opened his apartment door, you pulled his t-shirt collar and crashed your lips together. it wasn’t even the soft one, not the usual welcome kiss you both always had when he welcomed you into his personal space. it was the rough one, a desperate kiss you rarely gave to him outside his or your bedroom. but he must have known better —he of course knew the best, so he decided to play along with a game he had started hours ago, back when you were still stuck with your friends to catch up and have some chats. 

he brought you straight into his room, pulling you closer and closer until you ended up caging him between your thighs. he wore the same gray sweatpants as what you spotted in the picture he sent to you —the thirst trap he sent to you in broad daylight. you could absolutely feel his bulge on your clothed core, sending some warm and giddy feeling, as if it lured you to rub yourself and dry hump him. so you spent some time there, curling your fingers to his pants rope with your spare hand sneaking into his shirt, finding the one you are looking for. and eric wasn’t stupid, by any means. he knew that you wanted him to take his shirt off like what you saw in the picture he gave to you, so he complied. 

it didn’t take much time until you bent your body down and for your tongue to start licking his abdomen, up to his chest, and focusing on his tensed nipples. your eyes never took off from his, wanting him to watch the sight of you exploring —enjoying every bit of his skin. not even when he started groping your ass. not even when he tried to throw off your trousers from your body. but it took seconds until both of you got what you wanted, to finally get down on his cock and for him to finally fill you up. it was the loud one, his bed wouldn’t stop squeaking, but did he even care? and neither did you. there was nothing in your mind except how you devoured this time the most, the way you bounced on top of him and how he kept thrusting you like a madman every time you slowed down for a bit. 

you didn’t think you could let eric go by any minute as if you still couldn’t get enough of his fingermark printed on your body. even after he filled you so much that you could sense how it would leak and drip down the moment he pulled out, it still wasn’t enough. 

[ericnyquist]

Annihilation No. 2 screen print is available today! Measuring 9 inches wide x 12.75 inches tall. Hand-printed by the artist, 2-color, on 230gsm Coventry Rag paper. Edition of 250 prints. Each is signed, numbered, and includes a certificate of authenticity. I am also offering framed prints on my web shop.

Original end page artwork for Annihilation By: Jeff VanderMeer.

[samonroegf]

⠀ dealer!sam monroe x cheerleader!reader

⠀　　⠀　　　　back to school

⠀　　⠀　　⠀　series masterlist

monday morning, the kind that every teenage girl regrets. the kind where you have to worry about seeing a man you're upset with. your parents are back in town, and you have to plant a happy smile on your face.

you bound down the stairs, heading for the kitchen and getting some breakfast. you sit on the bar next to your father, he's drinking coffee and staring angrily at the wall. it's always something better left unsaid, because once he starts there's no coming back from the screaming match that's bound to happen.

as soon as you're done eating, you give each of your parents a kiss on the cheek and walk to your car. they barely acknowledge you, as per usual. little nods and hums when you speak, the only things they care for were reputations. how people see their lovely daughter, such bullshit.

once in your car, you just sigh, and start it mumbling to yourself about how this day better go half-way decent or it would be your last. it was an empty promise, but it made you chuckle dryly. you put on a playlist to try and lighten your spirits, it doesn't really work.

the drive takes entirely too long and not long enough at the same time. fifteen minutes will never be enough.

you're greeted by your friends as you exit your car, bright smiles and asking how your weekend went. lying, you tell them that it was a quiet weekend, not doing too much.

“well, you know what i heard?” the brunette spoke up, kylee, she giggled as she spoke, holding a hand over her mouth. after spending so much time with sam, you realize you don't really like your friends. losing some kind of sparkle after your deep talks, cheap gossip seems so futile.

“what?” your eyebrows raised, and worry set deep in your chest. the last thing you need is the most back-stabbing girls you ever met to know about your weekend adventures.

another one finishes for her, this time a redhead with olive skin. lila, with a bit more of an accusatory tone, “eric and sam monroe got into a fight, some people are saying it's about you.”

your world pauses around you for a moment, sam's injuries weren't from a deal gone bad, but because he was probably standing up for you. eric was always one to have to run his mouth, serves him right.

“yeah, eric had to go to the hospital. he's fine. sam is insane.” the third girl from your close-knit group spoke up, bethany. she spit sam’s name like it was a curse, and while you were deeply upset with him, you wanted to rip her head off. you swallow hard and just hum, “oh, that's odd.” it was spoke in a dejected tone. you wanted to yell at sam and thank him, maybe cry in his arms too. you felt so conflicted.

the loudspeaker garbles out, “sam monroe, y/n y/l/n, and eric taylor report to the principal’s office at once.” and naturally of course, you wouldn't be let off that easy.

you cursed under your breath, and made the walk, the girls you call your friends whispering about you as you do.

you find sam already sat inside, his eyes are puffy and he's looking right at you, but you refuse to make eye contact. eric is also there, sitting in the chair farthest from sam. this puts you between the pair. his face is different colors of reds, blues and purples, yet he still has a smug look planted on his face.

as he turns his head to give you a disgusted look, there's a very obvious print of sam's ring. you almost want to laugh. it's exactly what he deserves.

you want to look at sam, stare into his soul, hope it'll tell you something. how could he beat up eric for something that has to do with you, and then continue to abandon you. confusion floods your senses.

“i’m sure we're all aware of why we're here,” the principal finally talks, he sounds tired.

“i’m not.” you speak up, your voice firm. you'd be damned if you're getting dragged to the depths of hell because of teenage boys.

“mr. monroe, please inform, ms. y/l/n, why we're here.” the principal has a warning tone, obvious this might be the final straw for sam. and with all things considered, you're not gonna let that happen.

“i uh,” sam's hand comes to scratch the back of his neck, he shakes his head defeated. he doesn't want to tell you, you can see it in his body language. the usually confident boy is curling into himself.

you finally look at him, since he has to talk to you. your eyebrows are furrowed and he can see it, you're disappointed. or hurt, he can't exactly tell. now that you can see him, you can tell life hasn't been exactly peaches for him either. his face is splotchy, eyes red and swollen, hair messier than normal. there's even skin missing from his lips from picking and biting them. you were still hurt, still angry, still upset. however, everything in you is telling you to pull this boy into your arms.

you have to protect yourself, you can't let him hurt you. but could you let him hurt himself in the meantime? you didn't know.

after sam finally recalls the fight, leaving out the parts of weed, which you were well aware of. your heart leaped once again, this man played your heartstrings like a bass.

you gave a dirty look to eric, and a soft one to sam. you can't just hurt him when he's looking at you like a puppy that's been kicked one too many times.

“i could be wrong, but isn't anything that happens off school property not the school's business? isn't that what the school board says when a kid gets cyber bullied and they kill themself? it's not the school's fault, cause it happened at home?”

the principal sighs, putting his head in his hands. it was obvious this was being pushed by eric, or perhaps his parents. probably to get sam kicked out of school, but this wouldn't be the first time you argued with school officials.

eventually argument leads to silence and the principal waves you all out, despite eric’s disdain. you step out of the office, now a scowl on your face.

the hallway’s empty, and since you and sam have classes in the same block, you and him walk away from eric. you wait until you're not in earshot, and pull sam into the girl's bathroom by the collar of his shirt.

you can tell he wants to talk to you, to explain something away. you'd rather rip the fucking bandaid off.

“quit with the puppy eyes and talk," your voice is cold and angry all at once. sam has never even heard you use a tone close to this before. especially not with him, it made anxiety creep up his back. he hated that you were mad at him, he almost wanted to leave.

“i’m sorry, cheer, i-i,” he chews on his lip again, and you want to roll your eyes. your arms come to cross over your chest, and it reminds sam of the beginning, of how it all started.

“you, what? you're stupid? i know that. you're an ass? i know that, too. gonna tell me anything I don't know?” you're spitting venom at him, and he flinches at it. you cringe at the look on his face, you just want to shake him and tell him to make a choice.

he laughs, it's cold and dry, and sounds a bit like he might cry again, you try to keep up a harsh exterior but your resolve is slowly crumbling.

“i am, i am all of those things, and you, you're perfect and i, i, you don't, you shouldn't have to put up with me, my bullshit, i,” his voice is breaking, it's shaky, and he's shaking his head.

you scoff, eyebrows furrowing together, “really? that's what this whole disappearing act is about? because you feel bad for yourself? god, sam, this is bullshit. this is shitty, you're being shitty to me. you're right, I don't deserve this. be a fucking grown up for once in your life and take responsibility.” you're laughing, cold, like steel. your laugh comes out angry, while his was so sad.

“we had sex and when i woke up, you were gone, fucking ghost, and all because your ego is a fucking mess? you acting like some fuckboy who just learned empathy. stay the fuck away from me until you can act mature and be serious about this. i am not some goddamn plaything you can just put down when you feel like it, okay? all or nothing, I'm done doing this shit. i love you, and it's killing me." you were crying now, your tears match the ones spilling from his eyes, as you tear him apart.

you wipe harshly at the fast falling tears, “goodbye sam.” and you storm from the bathroom, out of the side door of the building. you leave the school, you don't know where you're going but you can't be here. the day's just started and you're already done.

[kafkasapartment]

Jane Birkin sitting by the River Thames, c. 1965. Eric Swayne. Silver Gelatin print - hand printed.

[greenhorn-art]

World Champions | Artwork for World Champions by TheDefenestrator by TheDefenestrator, art by Blurb_brain

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 71 944

At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up. Or, In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.

About the Book

FONTS: Mundo Serif, Azonix [dafont], Segoe UI Symbol

IMAGES: Illustration by Blurb_brain [AO3]; cover image by NASA ID: 440611 [Rawpixel]; Planet Earth background ID: 6331593 [Rawpixel]; Circuit lines background ID: 3117935 [Rawpixel]; endpapers' image by Eric Eastman [Unsplash]; Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer [The King's Avatar Wikia]

MATERIALS: regular printer paper (8.5"x11", 96 bright, 20lb), 80pt bookboard, Iris Bookcloth (colour: Black Pearl), Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", bright white, 65lb), waxed linen thread (white, 30/3 size), embroidery floss (shades 3750, 350, 3845, 370), leather cording (1.9mm diameter), Reeves’ acrylic paint (Mars Black, Phthalo Blue, Titanum White), Americana acrylic paint (glow in the dark), ph neutral pva glue (Books by Hand)

PROGRAMS USED: Typeset in Affinity Publisher, cover/title page/endpapers designed in Affinity Designer/Photo, QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, PDF arranged for printing with Bookbinder-JS

BINDING STYLE: quarto, case bound (slightly rounded, with oxford hollow, forgot to use tapes)

.

Fenes' "Glory's tech isn't handwaved" AU. This was great! Funny and creative, and I'm both amazed and full of admiration for Fenes' ability to juggle so many characters.

I was feeling excited and ambitious with this one. Tried some new fun things (double core endbands, painted edges) and used some new equipment (a lying press).

The Text

TITLE/HEADINGS FONT: Azonix says 'SciFi' to me, it's a bold, non-serif, sleek font.

BODY FONT: Mundo Serif, it's a decent serif body font I haven't used before. Felt like it worked with Azonix.

SCENE BREAKS: a special character in Segoe UI Symbol of a black & white icon of Earth, the globe showing Asia.

TYPESETTING: Finished typesetting the fic, left document open on my laptop, laptop's battery failed, file now crashes immediately upon reopening, issue persists with copied versions of file (；￣Д￣) . Thankfully I had a backup file for the typeset with the barebones of the text, so I didn't have to restart from scratch...

Title Page

My thinking: it takes place in space, the world's at stake, and it's the dawn of a new horizon for Earth. Glory and the titular champions are represented by Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer – the captains of what I'd call the 'big 5' teams. A circuitry board background element hints at the tech/mecha nature of the story's competition. It may not match Blurb's art, but I hope I was able to convey some of what the story is about.

The circuitry image is used as decoration throughout the book. I only used the avatars of the top five teams' captains because too many silhouettes would lessen their impact and readability. (Removing the backgrounds was tedious, but worth it.)

Here's what it should have looked like. The test prints for this and the BB art were fine, but I think my inkjet started running out of ink just when I printed the final copies and I didn't reprint them. (Too impatient, really wanted to finish up and read the book)

The Cover

World Champions is another Big Bang fic, and once again I based some of my design choices off of the accompanying artwork. The dominant colours of Blurb_brain's illustration are red and blue-green.

COVER PAPER: For the decorative cover material I used NASA's ASTER image of Poyang Lake. NASA has some really interesting photography some of which remind me of marbled paper, thought it could be interesting. I chose this image of Poyang Lake because 1) it's in China, 2) the colours were similar to Blurb's awesome illustration (fate strikes again, dropping matching images and artwork into my lap!), and 3) NASA is tangentially relevant to the fic, which takes place in space.

BOOKCLOTH: Verona bookcloth in the shade Black Pearl, a lovely dark navy blue colour. Thought it suited the cover paper and title page. (Bought it for this fic specifically, but the colour goes well with almost all of my decorative papers so it should see a lot of use in the future!)

Endpapers

The final decision that held this project at a standstill for two months. In the end I drew inspiration from the matchups against the final opponent in the story. The image I used is a little chaotic and a little too unrelated to identify why I picked it without an explanation, but this book is for me and I know why, so there. (Note that I played around with the colours and cropped the photo.)

Endpaper inspiration: the maps for the matches against the Infilhites

"a long bridge through an enormous tube-like hall, where light seem to come from every side through stained glass windows. It was visually confusing, limited lateral motion" "a warehouse, crates stacked on and beside metal racks that went all the way to the ceiling." "a house of mirrors, fully enclosed to be sure the Infhillte couldn’t fly out of it." "like a volcano, rivers of lava moving sluggishly down a slope, occasional vents of overheated air nearby." "a series of overlapping bridges between halls and stairways, level after level layered over an open abyss."

Trimming & Painting the Edges

Going all out, a 2-for1 deal: the opportunity to use my lying press for the first time and learn a new technique!

TRIMMING: Used a paring chisel and lying press.

CHISEL: The 1.25" wide paring chisel I used was form a modern manufacturer. (Vintage paring chisels are very thin, enough so that you can bend/flex the blade. But don't do that.) It's long and wide blade made it easier to register against the surface of the press for consistent cuts. Looks like this one below from Lee Valley.

LYING PRESS: My dad's project. Solid black walnut, hand carved screws and internal threads — he even made the tools to make the threads too! The jaws of the press are each 3 7/8" wide. It's big and heavy (though much smaller than full-sized professional ones omg), but there's enough of a flat surface to register the chisel against. A thicc boi, much like this one below from Bookbinding Supplies.

PAINTED EDGES: The idea was to have dark navy edges, speckled with white stars. I used acrylic from a tube to paint the edges — tutorials recommended it over liquid bottled acrylic, and I had an old set hanging around. Had to water it down because otherwise the paint just flaked off.

My test of trimming and painting went well. Then the trimmed book itself came out slightly crooked, the paint required significantly more watering-down than before, and the white paint did not want to be both opaque and speckle-able. Unfortunate, but still book-shaped! And now I have an idea of what to do differently next time.

Also, did not like the glow-in-the-dark paint. Looked too translucent in the light when compared to the white acrylic, and needed a thicker coat to be visible in the dark. (The thickness combined with the translucence and base colour kinda reminded me of boogers... Ended up scrapping most of it off, so there's not much left to glow.)

Endbands

Still in the mood to have fun and go all-out, I attempted double-core endbands for the first time.

TUTORIAL: YouTube @ BookbindersChronicle: Bookbinding 101 Sewing Headbands Session 2. Also watched @ DAS Bookbinding's Double-Core Endband // Adventures in Bookbinding, but I personally found Chronicle's closeup video easier to follow.

I used embroidery floss from a 100pk of assorted colours off Amazon, wrapped around a core of 1.9mm leather cording from Michaels. I drew from Blurb_brain's art for the general colours, choosing a dark base, with red, blue-green, and gold. The specific shades were picked to go with the cover.

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝

nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

1.7k words, YO! SUGGESTIVE, college au, kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, the bra comes off but nothing explicit (uh minors... DNI), his shirt comes off, barely proofread bc i wrote this on impulse and tis late for me

a/n: i let my impulsive and intrusive thoughts win.

Hands—his hands were everywhere. Anywhere he could fit his palms, his fingers against and into—every curve and crevice would not be leaving untouched. He burned his prints into your skin, signed his name with his lips, tongue, voice.

"This okay?" He murmured against the column of your throat. He could probably feel the way your pulse raced at his touch as you arched yourself into him.

Your breath hitched, his lips pressing feather-light kisses, his fingertips dancing along the bottom hem of your shirt. "More—more than okay," you exhaled, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He gave a groan of approval from the hollow of your throat, then swiftly moved back up to capture your lips for himself and steal your breath away.

(before.)

"Yn." At the feeling of a nudge to your side, you turned to your friend Jisung whose face was fitted with the widest, shit-eating grin. "You know that guy's been checking you out all night, right?"

He inclined his head toward your 4 o'clock, and you curiously followed his gaze to see what he was talking about.

You caught sight of him across the room—red ball cap, white dress shirt with nearly half the buttons undone, exposing the smooth skin beneath and the chain hanging from his collar. He nodded at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he smiled.

Your heart went and did a row of cartwheels.

You and Jisung had come with a group of friends to this one party tonight. There were no expectations, really, only that you had all Rock-Paper-Scissored and Felix was forced to DD. Jisung and you had lost the others pretty fast, but you hadn't minded the bit of one on one time you got with him. (You liked to claim you didn't have favorites, but Han Jisung was a little difficult to not love.)

"You know him?" Jisung asked you after draining whatever was left in his plastic cup. He gave a grimace at the burn down the back of his throat.

"Uhm yeah, actually." You smiled, lifting a brow. "Eric Sohn. Plays shortstop for the uni baseball team." Yeah, you knew him, alright. You never missed a baseball game, even since high school, and that tradition had yet to stop in college. Sometimes, you would even go with your other friend Seungmin, if he had time. It was something that reminded you a lot of life in your hometown, where all your closest friends would hit the neighborhood field to play a round or two. Of course, constantly being in the stands meant that someone was bound to notice your presence.

Maybe he'd finally figured out you weren't there for anyone in particular.

A crease formed between Jisung's brows. "What the fuck's a shortstop?—You know what? I don't need to know," he said with a shake of his head. He turned his body toward you, extending his hand, "Dude's coming this way, so I won't step on your toes."

You passed Jisung an incredulous look, but clasped his hand with yours. "Just say you don't wanna cockblock me, Ji."

He laughed. "Hey, you said it this time, not me! Use protection, my friend," he teased, patting you on the shoulder before taking his leave and melding with the crowd.

You rolled his eyes, but your heart still thundered in your chest. Jisung said Eric was on his way over to you, and you were a little nervous to turn around and look—

"I've kind of been wondering about something."

Here he is. You whirled around and came face to face with the man in question. From up close, his jawline was even sharper than it looked from all the way up in the bleachers, his hands veiny all the way down his forearms. And his shirt seemed to be hanging on just enough to leave something for the imagination, but you were sure your imagination would be pretty on the nose anyway. His smile was even prettier this close and there was something boyish about its edge that threw you for a loop. He braced an arm against the wall next to you, and you saw the glint of his silver watch and the rings adorning his fingers.

"And what would you be wondering?" You prompted with a small tilt of your head.

"What's a girl as pretty as you doing alone all the time?" He asked. "I've been racking my brain for an explanation, and none of my teammates say they know you."

"Maybe I'm just looking for a good time," you replied airily, leaning toward him slightly. Then it came to you, the replays of him on the field, the way he so effortlessly caught your attention like he turned double plays. "And someone who knows what he's doing, I suppose."

His smile widened a sliver, following your lead. "And what can I do to prove to you that I do?"

You could smell the expensive, but subtle cologne lingering on his skin and clothes over the smell of the party around you. Your eyes darted down to his lips and you saw him do the same to you. "Come a little closer and find out."

(now.)

He was addicted to the taste of you—couldn't stop and didn't plan to stop until he traced every inch of you with his mouth. Eric had lost his cap at some point between meeting you and getting you alone in this room. It was dark, it was hot—you were hot. Your skin was on fire, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your hands were in his hair, but he wanted them on his body, in his pants, and still in his hair.

You gave a tug as he pressed his tongue into your mouth, a pretty whine coaxed from you. God, you were so pretty. So pretty and perfect and—he couldn't believe you were single.

His nose slotted against yours, his knee sliding between your thighs and keeping your knees from buckling. He kept you up by his own strength and the wall behind you.

You broke for air and he dove for your neck. "Eric," you managed to say between breaths, the top of his head tickling the bottom of your chin.

He hummed, hands squeezing your sides. "I'm gonna stick my hands under your shirt," he rasped when he pulled back to look you in the eyes, a silent question of permission.

"Be my guest."

"You're cute," he chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips.

You smiled. "I can say the same about you." You reached for his face with both of your hands, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as his hands inched up under your shirt. "Now let me eat you up, Eric Sohn."

You could taste his laugh on your tongue. "Mmh—fuck, I like the—the sound of that."

And you were all too soon consumed and suffocating on him again, choking on the feel of muscle beneath your hands that moved to grip his shoulders; ascending, as he pressed himself against you, until no air existed between your bodies. Your mind was blank, all that laid upon your tongue was his and his name.

Eric, Eric, Eric…

"Can I take your shirt off?" You asked between kisses, catching his bottom lip between your teeth for a spell.

His forehead rested against yours, noses slotted beside each other. He braced an arm against the wall by your head while the other wrapped around your waist. "Oh my god, please."

Lazily, he kissed you again, and he somehow made your toes curl even more.

He would turn his eyes downward to watch your fingers slide each button out of its slit, the curtains of his white shirt slowly falling open. And he would find your lips again, one kiss rewarded for each buttoned freed.

Eric shrugged the garment off and it fluttered to the floor. With your eyes adjusted to the dark and the minimal light streaming in from beneath the door, you could trace the hard lines of his arms and stomach. Line by line.

"You're beautiful," you blurted out suddenly. Inwardly, you winced; dear god, you hoped you didn't just kill the mood.

Instead, though, he giggled. No one had ever called him beautiful before, at least, not to his face. Eric cupped the back of his neck with boyish glee, then moved to hold your cheek. "I'm gonna kiss you for that."

That was so fine by you.

He made good on his word and dove for your mouth, expertly catching the back of your head with his hand for cushion against the wall. And if you hadn't had the wall for support, you were certain the force of his kiss would have you bending over backwards.

Your fingers dug into his arms for good measure. Heat pooled in your belly, a fire that kept you fueled and was fanned by Eric-motherfucking-Sohn.

He groaned into your mouth, an awfully delicious sound. "Bra clasp? Wanna feel you, baby."

As everything seemed to be, permission was granted immediately.

His fingers flew up your shirt again and cupped you through your bra. You felt him wrap around your body, nimbly flicking at the clasp—

There was a hurried and loud knock on the door, and you both jolted in surprise.

"Occupied!" Eric barked, hands stilling over the place where your strapless bra had been two seconds ago.

"Eric? It's Kevin! It's an emergency." Someone's voice—Kevin's—echoed through the locked door. He didn't even bother to jiggle the handle.

You saw a muscle feather in his jaw, and he carded a hand through his damp, dark hair. Conflict flickered in his eyes, from you, to the door. "One minute, hyung."

You heard footsteps retreat from outside.

Eric leaned down and scooped up your bra and his shirt from the floor, handing you your garment with a sigh. "Sorry for cutting this short," he murmured, cupping the back of your head affectionately.

Your smile was easy, and you swiftly reset your clothes and hair. "Don't worry about it. It sounds important."

"If it's Kevin, then it probably is," he agreed. He'd finished buttoning up his shirt halfway.

When you reached for the doorknob, Eric spun you back around towards him and swooped in for a kiss that made your head spin around. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, a last taste for now. "I'm not done with you yet, though, Yn."

You bit back your grin. "I was betting on that, Sohn."

read the sequel here!

tbz m.list

[thelioncourts]

You may have answered this elsewhere, but what are some of your favorite Jam moments, either in videos or in print? :)

oh, god, there are so many. I'm going to forget all of them, but !

s1 interviews where they talked about texting each other pictures and sam had his photos on live and jacob thought it made him incredibly interesting and they would update each other as they got new fangs in the mail.

their zoom auditions that landed them the roles, the deciding factor really wasn't how they acted as lestat and louis, but how they interacted as themselves with one another.

their date to the vampire boutique to buy vampire things and they bought candles they were supposed to light together but sam, ever the forgetful husband, lit his way before jacob and jacob was Disappointed.

speaking of ever forgetful husband, the reddit q&a where jacob was like 'oh sam is trying to get into the writers room' like the husband that knows everything or when asked about their first scene and sam said one thing, then jacob corrected it, and sam commented back like 'oh yeah jacob is right.'

jacob's teeny tiny teasy pics of sam from sdcc 2022 before any of us knew just how much they were going to ruin us.

"most fulfilling partnership...cREATIVE partnership"

when they got out to the main sdcc 2022 panel and sam was so nervous and jacob gentle started rubbing his back and they looked at each other and sam put a hand on jacob's thigh and AHHH

sticker shop date

l.a. date where they went to universal

walks along the beach in san diego

meeting in the rehearsal room all masked up and whatnot

eric's "the only difference between these two and their characters is that I've never seen these two fight"

jacob saying that sam's hair is really cool when it's put up

sam on ep2 of the iwtv podcast saying that when he met jacob he knew it would be really easy to fall in love with him...

jacob's one interview where he said that the coffin was comfortable when there were two people in it and associating sam's bday with valentine's day

jacob crying as hard as he did during the s1 finale because not only was it the acting, but it was also the acknowledgement that he would be losing this with sam in some way

prague dinner dates every single night........

taking delainey paddleboating in prague

the entire s2 finale reunion and how the mics were cut so they could have that moment, how they didn't really discuss it, how they just know each other as they do and it was them, and it was real

the tv insider jenga game where jacob was like 'what's my favorite snack?' and asking sam and then going 'why am I asking you?' but sam still answered anyway

when they walked up to each other at the s2 premiere for the first time (don't talk to me about it)

the entire s2 premiere, I am not allowed to Speak

the 92ny screening and every teasing little interaction they had on that stage, GOD

the interview where they talked about their dinner in prague and sam chose it as his last meal if he could choose one, even though he didn't like the food that much, but --

how sam said that filming s1ep5 it was so hard to see jacob as he was but jacob tried to alleviate his problems with it and so they have fun videos of jacob spinning and also sam took home his prosthetic eye

the locket bailey made with both sam and jacob's pictures in it and she showed sam and he was like 'oH MY GOD CUTE'

seine river walk, my beloved

clubbing in paris that I'm legally not allowed to talk about

swapping contacts, like who does that, why

sam saying that there's no one he would rather be nude and bleeding with

the paleyfest 2022 interview where bailey was talking about how sweet they are and jacob made the CUTEST face and then was like 'sam. are we best friends?' in the most giggly way and sam was just. so fond, so 'yeah, we're best friends'

in jacob's interview with autumn where she was like 'I tried to get sam to sing when...' and jacob just. fully knowing 'he's not going to do that' in the most deadpan way

the s2 premiere cute interview clips where jacob just goes and lays down and stares at sam (?????)

jacob talking about (during s2) how grateful he was to film with sam and how it felt like home and it was comfortable

the video with delainey where they go through several of the episodes and analyze scenes and they spent way too long giggling about bdsm and just reminiscing

the way any and everyone talks about them, it's so not normal (compliment)

I'm sure there are hundreds more, I'll add to it as I think of things

[anon-sect]

Eric has ten employees he supervised in his department at work. He had a level of respect for each of them. The only thing he required was the same level of respect back. But there was one employee who was a major thorn in his side. He did enough to keep himself employed, but every time he had to be corrected, he showed a lack of respect to his position. He really wanted to fix this issue to make life at work much easier.

Eric had heard of a guy named Genie who was solving financial issues but helped in other ways. He had to see if he could help solve his disrespectful employee problem. He called and set up a meeting on the next day.

Eric met Genie at his office. "How can I help you, since you aren't interested in money? Most of my clients are usually here for those partucular reasons." He asked Eric.

Money wasn't an issue currently, but an employee was. "I have this one employee that is really annoying, but I have no grounds on which to fire him. And he won't quit. I just want him dealt with where he is no longer an issue or concern for me." Eric explained his slightly strange request, wondering how a guy named Genie can solve it.

Genie snapped his fingers and a magical contract instantly appeared before him. He looked it over before turning it around for Eric to sign it.

Eric was amazed how an old looking form of paper instantly appeared out of nowhere. "Are you some kind of magician?" He asked as Genie turned the paper for him to read. "Let's just say my magic is far more ancient than some magician. Just sign and initial the highlighted areas. Also, on the bottom in the fine print, I need you to write in a name, it has to be a close friend or a close acquaintance you know well." Genie responded to his question.

Eric read and signed at the same time. He understood what was on the old parchment looking paper. The wish would be permanent with no reversal. But what confused him was that he had to provide a name at the bottom. And it had to be a close friend or acquaintance. "Why do I need to write a name down here if I have already signed?" He asked him curiously.

"You see, I don't grant wishes for free. I require something in exchange. The name you provide will belong to me as my possession. Otherwise, I won't grant it." Genie spoke his response, waiting on Eric to finish signing it.

Eric thought of who he should write in. He didn't want to put in the name of someone close to him he cared about. That would be cruel. He then had the perfect name. It was someone he knew by acquaintance really good, but was also annoying. He honestly wouldn't care what Genie did with him. He wrote in Jake on the line and handed the paper back over to Genie.

Genie looked it over one more time and saw everything was in order. He snapped his fingers, and the parchment vanished just as suddenly as it appeared. "Your wish will be granted in the morning. Just remember, it's permanent. It will not be reversed. I think that concludes our business." Genie motioned him toward his office door.

Eric left wondering how his annoying employee situation would be dealt with. He was told it would be handled by the morning. He couldn't wait to see what would happen.

The next morning, Eric took his shower as normal, but when he came out, he saw a pair of white AND1 socks with a small note beside it. He read the note: here is Malcolm. He is now your pair of socks, enjoy them as you please. Sign, Genie. P.S. there is no reversal if you should happen to feel any remorse.

Malcolm was just having breakfast when suddenly he found himself laid out in a strange place. His body was split in half, and he couldn't move at all. Nor could he physically speak or utter any sound. It was like being trapped in your own mind with no escape. He hated this feeling. He then heard a familiar voice approach. "Wow, he really did solve my Malcolm issue. He made him into my personal pair of socks. I literally get to wear him." He heard as the familiar voice laughed afterward. He knew exactly whose voice it was. It was his supervisor, Eric. Did he hear right? Was he turned into a pair of socks? He quickly realized it was his current reality when he felt Eric picked him up and slid his foot into his sock body. Even though Eric's foot was clean with no odor, it still sickened him at the thought that he was now wrapped around his supervisor's foot. He then experienced it a second time as the other sock was put on. He felt Eric wiggling his toes in him. He screamed so many curses at him and realized Eric didn't hear a single one. He was a powerless pair of socks, and Eric was his owner.

Eric loved the way Malcolm felt on his feet. He would make him his favorite pair of socks. The thought that Malcolm would be at work but providing support for his feet made him smile. The annoying employee became useful to him. The best part was that his socks couldn't speak. No more disrespectful tone coming from him, nothing but bliss silence from the only employee he had that got on his nerves. He then thought about the one whom he gave up to get his wish granted. He wondered what Genie would do with him, even though he honestly didn't have any concern for his well-being.

Jake felt strange. The last thing he remembered was being in his bed. Now he felt like he was somewhere else. He was in a dark place and wrapped around something that felt familiar. He tried to speak but found he no longer had the ability. He tried to move, but his motion was minimal at best. All the most he could accomplish was squirming motion.

Genie felt his underwear moving. He laughed at the futile attempt to escape his current fate. The wish was granted, which meant Jake was permanently his. The good thing was the guy that gave him Jake didn't even care what happened to him. But he would let Jake know of his fate. Suddenly, he had the urge to fart. He let out a long five second fart. He laughed as he finished because he remembered making the guy's face be in the ass part of the underwear. He literally just farted in his face. He really felt the underwear squirm like crazy. He laughed even more.

Jake tried to get away from the smell as an almost toxic gaseous smell bombarded his face. It was so ranchid that he would have gagged or vomited if he had an actual mouth. He realized his reality. He was underwear, and his face was at the rear end of the underwear. He was looking directly at another guy's ass and there was no escape from it. He himself was a straight guy, loves the ladies. But to literally end up on a guy's ass was the worst thought he could ever imagine, let alone it be his reality.

Genie unzipped his pants to speak with his underwear for the first and last time. "Your friend or associate Eric offered you to me in exchange for his wish being granted. So I decided you would be my underwear. The last guy given to me was turned into my favorite pair of socks. I have to tell you, you do make an excellent pair of underwear. And you absorb my fart gas well. I don't smell any of it." Genie paused and laughed at Jake as he farted again, this time it was almost eight seconds long. "This is permanent for you." He finished as he zipped his pants back up. He went and sat down to watch television. He rubbed his butt in his underwear for a bit, enjoying the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing as the underwear squirmed like crazy.

Jake knew of Eric, but for him to trade him off like that was cruel and unforgivable. That last fart was worse than the first one. Then the guy sits down and rubs his ass in his face. He would never wish this fate on any straight guy. A gay guy might be loving this, but he was hating every last moment.

At the end of the day, Eric arrived home from work. His socks had a little sweat in them. He sniffed his shoes and found his strong foot odor in them. He shook his head. He was glad he wasn't trapped in that smell all day. The thought that Malcolm was trapped in that all day amused him. That must have been torture, he thought to himself. But Malcolm's day wasn't over yet. There was one more thing he wanted his former employee to experience.

Malcolm was literally praying for death. The weight of Eric constantly bearing down on him was torture enough. It was just made worse by being trapped and surrounded by an intense foot odor that made him wish he could commit suicide. Add in tasting Eric's feet the entire day. All of this combined was a pit of hell that he would not even wish on someone he hated. Eric only spoke to him that morning. All the rest of the day, he was completely ignored. He was just treated as normal socks. He mentally tried to reach out to his friends at work when he heard their voices, but all attempts were futile. Even if Eric had let them see his socks, no one would come to his rescue. All they would see is normal socks. Only Eric knew the truth, and he wasn't telling anyone about what happened to him.

Eric put on a porn video on the TV. He removed one sock and placed it over his dick. As the video action intensified, so did his dick. Next he was shoot hot cum straight into his sock. "How does that taste, Malcolm?" He laughed as he cleaned off his dick. There was still some cum left on his cock, so he took the other sock to wipe it off. "You also make an excellent cum rag." He added. "Just to let you know, this is permanent. You will never be human again. You only exist to support my feet and be my cum rag forever. I can't reverse what's been done to you, and neither do I want to." He laughed as he placed the socks on the couch. He would wash them later so that he could wear Malcolm again tomorrow. He would wear him to work every day just to torture him, knowing he would never see his old life ever again. And no one to come change his fate. This was the best way to handle my annoying employee issue, he thought. He would have to thank Genie later on. As for Jake, he didn't care what Genie did with him. They weren't close friends anyway.

Malcolm mentally cried as he tasted hot cum that would soon dry up in his sock body. His humanity was reduced to servitude to his former boss's feet and for sexual pleasure. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

[kentuckycaverats]

oc deep dive: delsidhe tsuga

formerly delphine tsuga fujinami

maeghar, thinblood, sired by toreador antitribu

portrait by @hairbrushed

what common/uncommon fear do they have?

her greatest fear (one of the only things she fears, really) is loss of autonomy. as a mortal her abusive bio parents raised her as a sacrificial lamb for baali methuselah petaniqua; upon escaping them she was involuntarily ghouled by a domitor who heavily abused her via auspex and presence; she took her life in an attempt to be free of her domitor, who embraced del to maintain her control; resulting in the expulsion of del's fae mien, who was then imprisoned/tortured/exposed to constant banality at the hands of the sabbat for the better part of a decade; and nearly every encounter with petaniqua throughout the chronicle involved del being on the receiving end of dominate or dementation. her "submit to no one" conviction is the one she most often takes stains against, whoops.

do they have any pet peeves?

cowards and politicians. if you're gonna do something fucked up, at least have the balls to own it and get your hands dirty yourself.

what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

a cauldron-shaped ceramic mug that she made for her (tremere) wife, tara. it's used like a vase to display lavender and lilacs.

a tie-dye print hydro dipped sniper rifle, gifted by coterie lasombra benedetta.

an ungodly number of lava lamps.

(visual refs for the vibe of her haven)

what do they notice first in a person?

as a matter of survival: how banal they are. all kindred are banal and all mortals have some degree of banality, but her fae nature makes her particularly sensitive to it. most ventrue, tremere, and lasombra are unbearable to be around but most ravnos, malkavians, and toreador are mild enough.

on a scale of 1-10 how high is their pain tolerance?

somewhere around 7-9. she inherited the toreador antitribu beast and therefore fixation on pain from her sire; and between all the torture she's endured + the chronic pain caused by the dissonance between her changeling and kindred natures, her tolerance is pretty high.

do they go into fight or flight mode (or freeze or fawn) when under pressure?

fight <3 girl who loves craves delights and revels in scenes of carnage.

what animal represents them best?

tasmanian devil! small, ferocious, territorial, fearless.

how would a stranger likely describe them?

insane, unpredictable, bold, self-assured

do they have any hobbies?

pottery, dancing, occult research, breaking and entering or carjacking with ravnos bestie mitra, arson, interior design, tending night-blooming plants, wooing/relentlessly hitting on tara.

tagging @lgbtmi @eric-the-bmo @harbingerofskulls @chiss-ticism !

[kira-broflovski]

Elven King || Kyle Broflovski x Reader

NOTE: i played stick of truth and wow i really want to write some fics based around that game now

summary: you finally returned home after being away from south park for so long and ran into your old crush

Trekking through the sea of green, you finally found it. The very spot that changed your life forever.

Memories of your childhood came flooding back to you as you stared out across the pond, it's breath-taking beauty never changing in the eight years you've been gone.

As you looked around the area more, you noticed things that were never taken down: the custom direction signs you made for the sake of immersion, or the little dens made out of large sticks that you and your friends would sit in for shelter during the summer heat. How has nobody destroyed them yet?

You decided to sit on the man-made bench, which was located towards the edge of the pond, that has been there for as long as you can remember.

Perfectly timed, one of your favourite songs from childhood started playing on your phone. The familiarity and nostalgia was getting to you as you thought about the people you cared about the most during that time.

You had left without a word. No goodbye, no explanation. Nothing.

On top of that, your phone was taken away from you so you couldn't even text or call anyone.

After everything that happened, your parents had decided to move away suddenly and never gave you a chance to see your friends again. They don't tell you anything so you don't know what made them move back to your hometown.

You couldn't help but wonder: do your old friends still live here? Do they even remember you? Or have they moved on with their lives?

You continued to sit there and drown in the memories attached to this quaint, moutain town.

What are your old friends up to now?

----

"You don't listen to me, you never fucking do!" The red-haired boy exploded towards his parents before storming out the front door.

He made his way to his usual spot. The spot where his life changed forever.

Kyle comes here everyday and waits for hours, sometimes his friends join him but he prefers to be alone. It's routine for him.

Everyone knows exactly why he comes here. People even join him in hopes of maybe getting an answer to the question: what happened to Y/N?

Nobody knows, but everyone remembers you.

Kenny kept that daffodil alive for years as it was the first time anyone had given him a flower, even if it was for a roleplaying game. Eric kept the weapons you made for him, as did most of the boys, he just claimed he never got around to getting rid of them. Stan kept his cape that you fixed for him after he got it ripped during a duel between him and Tolkien.

Then there was Kyle. He kept every single thing you made for him, and he even had an entire box kept safe under his bed filled to the brim of all your gifts.

The items ranged from flower crowns for various occasions and accessories that made him truly look like the elven king he chose to play, to printed out photos of you and him from all the good times you shared together.

Snapping back to reality, he realised he finally made it to his destination.

He knew the route to where all the best memories were made like the back of his hand. The amount of times he has sat and waited in case you showed up, like you were a mythical creature. The Dragonborn.

Sunlight seeping through the leaves was always so pretty, to both you and Kyle. It also served as an indication of being close to your shared favourite spot.

Following the desire path that was made as a result of everyone involved in your childhood game, he was getting closer to the area.

It took a second for him to realise he was following the sound of humming. That's wholesome.

Wait.

His head snapped down from admiring the luscious trees.

Could it be?

He turned the corner. There you were, but... was it really you? He decided to hide behind a tree closer to you.

Meanwhile, you sat there blissfully unaware of your old friend's presence. You were thinking about him, and how happy he made you. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like him when you were younger.

You wondered how things would have been if you stayed. Would you ever get the chance to be with him? Is he still the hot-headed boy that had a soft spot for you? How does he feel about the entire situation. Did he feel the same at the time?

The song coming to an end, you decided to just turn the music off entirely and enjoy the peace of nature.

That's when you heard rustling and the sound of a twig breaking behind you, followed by someone muttering. "Shit."

You turned around and saw none other than...

"Kyle Broflovski?" Your eyes widened in shock as they met his inquisitive eyes.

"Y/N L/N?" A warm grin crept it's way onto his face. He offered his hand, and you eagerly took it. "Oh my— look at you!"

Your face was growing hotter by the minute as he looked you up and down, not in a weird way, just in disbelief that you're here.

"You're really here!" He was seconds away from bursting into tears as your mere presence let the memories flow back to him all at once.

"Do you need a hug?" You asked bashfully, exactly how you used to when you were kids. Your hugs always made him feel better whenever he was feeling some sort of negative emotion.

"C'mere," he mumbled and pulled you into his arms.

The two of you spent hours catching up and reminiscing on your childhood. After a while, you asked about everyone else and that's when he explained everyone still lives there. It was only you who ever moved away.

"Do you want to go see everyone?"

[ejzah]

A/N: Not at all inspired by my day.

***

Callen: Ok, send us the address, Nell.

Nell, tapping at her tablet: Huh, that’s weird. It’s not sending. Eric—

Eric: It looks like the internet is out in the whole building.

Deeks, pursing his lips: That doesn’t seem ideal.

*a moment later the power goes out*

Deeks: Did someone forget to pay the electric bill again?

Nell: The generator will kick on in a minute.

Eric, a few minutes later: We should probably go check the generator.

Kensi, finding Deeks’ hand in the dark: So, if the power doesn’t come back on soon, do we just go home? You know, since nothing’s going to work, including our phones.

Sam: No, we just go old school.

Deeks: I was afraid of that.

***

A few hours later

Kensi: Baby, did you find that file for Amanda Cooke?

Deeks, looking up from a box, curl flopping in his eye: No, but I did find a dead rat.

Kensi, grimacing: Maybe you should look in a different box.

Sam: I can’t find that witness report from the other day.

Nell: I’ll email you a copy. *after a second* Oh, right, no internet. I’ll print a—damn it! I can’t do anything.

Eric: I suddenly feel irrelevant.

[philosophicalconservatism]

Observation.

The fact that the ideas of the far Left do not work from a practical standpoint is yet another reason that the Left seeks federal power. Federal power mitigates the damage that these ideas do. Control of the money "printing press" means the ability to continually offset and delay the negative consequences of your decisions. When far Left ideas are simply left to function on their own, in cities on the local level, things quickly go awry. Federal power masks the harm. It was actually more federal money (not suitable border policy) that local Democrats like Mayor Eric Adams of New York were looking for recently from the President; money to support their sanctuary city policies. President Biden fortunately opted for a more realistic solution this time, after initially setting the welcome mat which encouraged the original crisis.

The fruit of Left-wing social policies and crime policies can be seen locally in blue cities across the country. But I think that New York is one of the most fascinating examples because there we can see the cause and effect more vividly than we can anywhere else. Each time the city has changed hands politically we have seen the tangible results. Liberals reigned over the city for over 20 years straight throughout the 70's and 80's, presiding over the worse crime wave in its modern history (we're talking murder rates 5 times higher than today). Many of its inner city neighborhoods visually resembled third world countries; President Ronald Reagan was left speechless upon visiting the South Bronx. They are conditions that would not even be tolerated in the city today.

The seismic shift came about when Mayor Rudy Giuliani was elected in the 1990's and remained in power for 8 years. He was followed by Michael Bloomberg who ran as a Republican and kept most of Giuliani's policies in place. The city soon became unrecognizable, but in a good way. New York eventually obtained the reputation of one of "America's safest big cities". Times Square which was once a no man's land after dark became a family spot. But ultimately the first Democrat in years was elected as Mayor in 2014. In just 4 years people were already discussing the deterioration of the city. Today it is a topic of discussion outside of the city.

Why would we turn our national government over to policies and to ideologies that we have seen we cannot turn our cities over to?